The Capwidow Diaries: Nothing Compares 2 U
by MandNwriterzz
Summary: The five times Steve and Natasha got interrupted during some you-know-what and the one time Natasha frickin' did something about it. Romanogers.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Don't own anything. Prompts came off tumblr. This is a five times thing, but I might make more than five. Yay!**

* * *

Natasha Romanoff rushed around the room in a hurry, hands flying around herself, fixing her thick mane of fiery red curls, pinning on sparkling and dangly pearl earrings from her earlobes. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection of a strong looking woman dressed in a professional black jacket and matching pants.

Clint Barton entered through the door way and flopped down on her bed carelessly, bringing his hands up to cup behind his head. He examined the back of her outfit, and the redhead whirled around and glared.

"Hey, Nat," he greeted with a nod and a smile. He gestured with his eyebrows about her outfit. "Hot date?"

"Shut up, Clint," she muttered under her breath, then narrowed her jade green eyes at Clint's gray T shirt and dull, blah looking jeans. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Why the hell are you dressed like that? We've got a mission."

"Yeah, about that," the archer's voice trailed off awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck self consciously. "I guess I won't be going with you on this mission. Sorry, Nat." He shrugged like it was no big deal, and it wasn't, since there were going to be plenty of missions afterward, but Natasha still crossed her arms and pinned a curious yet annoyed look on the man on her bed.

"And who is going to be my partner?" she questioned.

"Who else? Your current partner." At the red haired woman's blank look present on her features, Clint sighed, looked away for a moment in brotherly irritation and smiled at Natasha devilishly. "Steve," he reminded her and her eyes widened fractionally.

"Steve?" she croaked out and then shook her head to rid the cobwebs. She let out a fake disappointed, "Oh." Her best friend just shot her an Oh, really? look at her.

"Do not tell me you're not excited about this little change," he challenged with an eyebrow and Natasha held back to urge to punch him like she always did when he started teasing her. It was true that she had a huge crush on Steve, but having to play a super spy couple would have been easier with the archer, Clint since there wasn't any sexual tension that would force her to act weirdly.

"Well, only the people on the mission can change it and I certainly didn't-" Her eyes now shrunk into little slits in her face and the archer bashfully hid his face away. "You did not-"

"Okay, okay!" he exclaimed, waving his hands around in interruption while picking himself off the bed. "Before you totally murder me for backing out of the mission, I only did this because I have some personal business to take care of."

"And what would this 'personal business' be?" The redhead crossed her arms again over her neatly ironed jacket, mildly interested in what would divert the oh-so-focused Clint Barton away from a mission teeming with potential fun times.

"Aheh," he chuckled nervously. "A thing."

"Let me guess. A thing with blonde hair, curvy as a roller coaster-" Natasha's mouth was still open to answer, but Clint clapped a hand over her mouth, cheeks blushing with embarrassment and looking at her with tired blue eyes.

"Okay, yes, it is Bobbi," explained Clint about his girlfriend, "but I swear, this is important! She's taking me on a road trip . . . somewhere," he finished at her own eyebrow raise. "It's a surprise apparently."

"Wow, she's taking you on the road trip after only weeks of dating? She must be very interested in you." Natasha sauntered around the archer, trying to push down a small smile at the way her voice sounded. Clint, like she planned, caught on to her sly tone and flipped around.

"What do you mean? It's just a road trip."

"Oh, my dear Clint, this is far more than just a road trip," she explained, staring at herself nonchalantly in the mirror, pretending to flick away an invisible piece of lint. At Clint's urgent hand rotations reflected back in the mirror, her mouth broke out into a grin and laughed out loud. She turned back around and leaned against the dresser. "This is the road trip of a lifetime. She's got you alone, no one around to save you, cornered, so that she can ask about all the personal questions who've managed to avoid till now. You've got nowhere to run, Barton," she shrugged.

"There's always-"

Natasha cut him off. "The restroom? Come on, all women are aware of the restroom excuse."

"Unless I include her in the restroom excuse." He flashed a dirty smile.

"Sure, canoodle with her all you want in a bathroom stall. Eight or nine hours with her in a car will be good for your health. So good luck."

"Good luck to you," he returned at her with a playful wink. "I heard an hour of sex burns 360 calories. Get some exercise and make Cap a man, will you? It's a double win."

He fled the room before the redhead could even reach her gun.

* * *

A few days later, Natasha was in the same hurry as she flew in through the door of their lavish hotel suite up in Montreal, Canada, wearing a short sleeved black dress. Steve Rogers was standing near the window, wearing his own white button down shirt and tan pants, gazing out the glass with contemplative blue eyes and his jaw set in all its Captain America glory.

"Sorry I'm late," she called, carrying her large black folder in her arms and couldn't break her eyes away from his awesome jaw for some reason.

Steve spun around, the golden sunlight rays filtering through his matching blond hair. He had a grumpy frown on his face. "You took your time," he stated impatiently, marching over to the table where she had sat down at.

"Had to meet the clients," she snapped back. "We are playing spy, after all."

"I told you once and I'll tell you again," he started but she finished the sentence along with him, "I'm more of a soldier than a spy."

They stopped, glanced at each other and laughed. They loved how they always sounded so perfect with their voices in sync. The red haired woman pried open her silver laptop and proceeded typing. Steve sat at his own laptop and peered at it curiously. He was still trying to get used to modern technology, but it wasn't as big a deal as it was a year ago.

"I finally got through the firewall," he declared, still looking at the screen and typing hastily on the keyboard while managing to catch glimpses of the time on his silver Rolex watch. Natasha continued to file papers together as she slid the other laptop over to him.

"There's no hurry as long as we don't forget any details," she replied, subtly applying stress on the last few words but the Captain didn't seem to notice.

"Good thing we haven't," he replied absently.

Steve checked his watch once more and Natasha began to gather up her files. After a few minutes, Steve noticed her silence and stopped leaning down on the table, rising up to full height.

"Okay. Obviously I've done something wrong," he finally admitted, yet he didn't know what.

"You forgot my birthday," was all the red haired woman said before strutting towards the door.

The blond man raised a quizzical eyebrow. "It's your birthday?" he repeated meekly.

Her fiery red curls fanned out in an arc when she furiously threw a retort over her shoulder. "It's my cover's birthday, you idiot!" she raged and rolled her eyes. Then she stormed out, leaving a confused Steve inside the room.

"Wait, how was I supposed to know that?!" he called after her innocently. "You're mad at me for forgetting your fake birthday?! But that wasn't even in the file! Nat! Natasha!"

* * *

Of course they smoothed out the situation and now they were sitting in a booth, Natasha across from Steve, both polishing off the remains of a mini feast. His arms were laid out across the table horizontally as he leaned in and she was resting her head on her balled up hand cupped around a glass full of ice cold water, soothing her hot forehead. From a distance and unknowing bystanders, they looked like two people on a sort of date. But really, it was just undercover.

"Captain, Agent Romanoff," Nick Fury's voice chirped through the earpieces tucked deep into their earbuds. The redhead sighed heavily in boredom and Steve pulled at his collar uncomfortably. "Do you have visual on the target?"

"Visual acquired. Target confirmed," repeated Natasha, looking up at the ceiling with jaded blue green eyes and trying to suppress a groan.

"Can't you two be a little more convincing?" Fury told them and Steve blushed. It was true that they didn't look like they were on a date at all now since the redhead in front of him was too silent and having a weary face and trying to look anywhere but at him. "Nobody would actually believe you're on a date."

Even Natasha agreed.

"Yeah, be more convincing," exclaimed Tony Stark, probably leaning into the sending device eagerly, having been waiting to make fun of this reluctant mission. He was lucky he was at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters because Natasha would have thrown a knife at him in person. "We all really want to see that."

"He's got a point, Nat," whispered Steve with a small smile and the red haired spy couldn't tell if it was fake to be part of the act. She chuckled softly.

"Aren't you the desperate one?" She reached a hand forward, walked her fingers on top of the smooth wooden surface of the table and started to stroke Steve's strong chin, enjoying the feeling of his skin brushing hers. This was about how much action they got normally, the brushing of fingers when reaching for something, the knee bumps under the table, the occasional hand grab when one of them was worried or nervous.

"Wow," ahed the dark haired billionaire through the commlink in a wholly unimpressed tone. "With all that red hot passion, it's a wonder you two can stay away from each other." There was an implied eye roll of most likely all of the other Avengers in the room.

"Jealous, Stark?" challenged the redhead coyly.

"You wish, Romanoff."

He did have a point though. They needed to pick up the pace. Natasha rubbed her foot against his ankle and giggled. "Laugh with me," she whispered through her girlish chortles. Steve easily grinned and leaned back, shaking with laughter. She slanted her body forward and pressed her lips to Steve's ear. "Work with me. Come on."

They both subsequently rose up from the table, the Captain throwing down the bill and a small tip to the waiter, who had offered them champagne since he assumed they were engaged due to the ring of Natasha's finger. That merchandise was only part of the act anyway.

"All right," Fury said again. "Now all you have to do is place the tracking device on the target's suitcase and your mission is complete. We'll send someone to retrieve you." The two others slunk their bodies' tensions in relief and Steve laid back against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

"Shh!" Natasha commanded after a minute. "He's coming!" She tossed something to Steve and started to walk after a figure. Steve looked down and saw it was the tracking device. Great. Why did he always get the hard jobs?

They strolled into their luxurious apartment building that they seemingly had a room in and Natasha was still chasing after the man, their target. They hopped into the elevator along with him. The man had a mustache and was wearing a stylish pinstriped suit. The Captain only had the slightest interest in why they needed the tracking device on him, but it vanished when the elevator's door slid open with a chime.

"Isn't he going to stay in his room?" Steve murmured in Natasha's ear and she pretended to be interested in fixing her denim jacket.

"Of course not," she replied. "He's obviously having an affair and just had dinner with his wife. Now he needs to meet his mistress."

Steve just gulped, obviously queasy about the situation. She slapped his arm playfully with a winning smile. "No worries. You're Captain America. You can do this!"

"Right." The man was now leaving the apartment and heading for the elevator. Once the doors closed, Steve zoomed across the hall and picked the lock immediately. Once it clicked, the blond man quickly tucked the blinking device underneath the strap of the suitcase and flashed a thumbs up sign at Natasha standing in the doorway. She smiled and they even high fived at their victory.

Until the elevator door chimed again.

Steve was an inch from closing the door and both of their eyes widened in alarm. "What do we do?" Steve whispered urgently and that was when Natasha threw her arms around Steve's strong and assuring body and crushed her lips to his. The last time they had kissed, it had been quick, gentle and chaste and sweet, but there was no mercy here. It was all passion and brighter and hotter than fire whiskey. Steve had closed the door with a bang, so when she practically attacked him, their collision masked the closing of the supposedly locked door. Natasha kissed him harder and harder, never wanting to stop. Her hands clawed all over Steve possessively, feeling the smoothness of his iron clad muscles. Steve, in return, kissed her back even more passionately, hands stroking her back, curving over her hips and then sliding upwards to curl his fingers in the warm sanctuary of Natasha's fiery curls, clasping it there firmly with the other arm wrapped around her tiny waist. He had definitely gotten way better at this.

This was definitely not part of the mission. Totally not necessary, yet they just wanted to. And they kept on going and going, melting away from reality in their own little lust and love crazed world.

Their tongues tangling together and lips attacking each other just as wildly as the other one, they were now a making out couple, a mass of hot and tangled limbs when a clearing of a throat was heard behind them.

The two people jumped apart and away from each other like a more powerful shock of electricity other than the explosive chemistry between them had electrocuted them. Natasha wheeled around in shock and shoved down an uncharacteristic blush color rising to her cheeks.

"Um, I was sent to get you . . ." Bruce Banner's voice trailed off, obviously having seen, experienced and full out _interrupted_ their make out. Steve was attempted to hide himself from view and Natasha just stared coolly at the Hulk. Banner gulped and then pointed to the corner. "Uh, just what the hell were you two doing?"

"It was part of the mission," snapped the red haired woman, wondering if she could reach her gun in time to shoot Banner out cold.

"Riiight," Banner extended the word, still not believing them. "Making out was totally part of the mission."

"It was an accident," claimed Steve, trying to help out, but the woman in front of him with her arms folded across her chest spun her head around and pinned a furious emerald glower at him, shutting his mouth completely.

"Oh yeah. What, did your mouths accidentally fall on top of each other or something?" Banner may have been anti social and so lacking a personal life, but even he wasn't entirely dumb and oblivious to what was going on around him in others' romantic needs and wants.

Steve narrowed his eyes at Banner's so not helpful grin. "I don't see your point."

"There was _tongue_, Rogers," Banner grinned even wider, making the golden haired man redden.

"He's making fun of us, Cap, even though our cover would have been totally blown if we didn't, um . . ." Natasha was suddenly too embarrassed to even say what they had been doing out loud, wondering if the other Avengers were listening right now. They were, however, and the scientist staring at them mock scoldingly was hearing all the raucous laughter through his earpiece, even Tony shouting for Banner to take a snapshot of this awkward moment.

"Kiss," Steve finished with another innocent face, wanting to help out and she glared at him again for even mentioning the cursed word.

The other man wanted to make this easier and gestured towards the elevator. With a tight and contrite smile, he said, "Uh, shall we?"

"Mmm hmm," Natasha rolled her eyes and stalked into the elevator with a stormy attitude. The two other men were cautious as they crept in as well. Once they got to Stark Tower, Steve slowed his pace to walk in step with Natasha.

"Sorry for-"

"Don't, Cap. It was wrong of me."

"Wrong?"

Natasha turned with wide eyes. "Unless you liked it."

"Of course I liked it. I just thought you would never-"

"Well, yeah! I mean, it was an emergency."

"Uh huh." A pause and the golden haired then asked, "Would you like to do it again?"

"Shut up, Cap," she muttered, rolling her eyes and sauntering away, but hiding a tiny smile. And all Steve could do was smirk just a little himself.

No matter what, they'd always want to be with each other, and nothing would stop that. But that still didn't make the interruption any less annoying, though, a thought that made Steve roll his eyes at himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Another oneshot for you guys, but this time, it's another highschool AU. So, I don't own Marvel, its characters or basic plot. I don't own anything in this chap, okay? Thanks and enjoy!**

* * *

"Will this day ever end?" Natasha Romanoff complained, her fiery red hair swishing over her brown leather jacket clad shoulders as she sighed in exasperation. Her crush, Steve Rogers, wheeled around in his seat.

"Well, yesterday did end, but today's Friday, so . . ." He looked up thoughtfully with his charming almost navy blue eyes, as if considering the answer. "No," he answered simply with a tight and strained smile, since he felt the same pain of having to endure their very snobbish and picky history teacher, Mr. Cooper.

He turned around and groaned once again. "Oh great, it's Schmidt and Zola," he whispered back at the redhead. "Also known as Break and Giveback."

"Yeah," she stretched the word out and cocked an eyebrow. "Why do they call them that?"

"You'll find out." Steve extended a hand with a spare pencil wrapped in his fingers and two other teenagers strutted over. One was tall, had a sharp looking nose and a rough German accent while the other was short and stumpy and had a Swiss accent and glasses perched on his nose. The tall one grabbed the pencil.

"Good afternoon, Rogers," he greeted with a sneer and then snapped the pencil in half. "Oops." Steve just rolled his eyes internally. He hated bullies, but these guys just weren't worth it.

When he was handed the pencil pieces by the short, sickly one-Zola or Giveback, he smiled. "Wow, thanks, Bre- I mean, Schmidt."

"You broke his pencil," ahed Zola.

"And you gave it back," finished Schmidt. They started to laugh when the tall man glared at his companion. "Solo laugh."

"Oh right." They walked away, Schmidt laughing in his so called triumph.

"Dumbasses," chuckled Natasha with amusement glittering in her lovely verdigris orbs as the teacher finally stalked in.

"Pipe down!" he ordered in his nasal voice. "Pipe down! I said, pipe down!"

As soon as he proceeded into his huge lecture, everyone else drifted off to sleep, leaning on their hands and doodling in the margins of their notebooks. Steve felt someone poke his back and he immediately extended his hand backward to snatch the note Natasha was passing him.

_**Let's ditch class! Who cares about study hall?**_was scribbled on the plain piece of white paper in thin red Sharpie marker. Steve shot her a brief, annoyed glare over his shoulder before setting to work on his reply.

The redhead took back the paper and read what was on it. _No WAY! Study hall's important, _so said the strongly built boy's blue lined response in front of her. Making a face, she started to mumble in her head about how stupidly honest and dedicated Steve was. Sometimes it was good and it was initially sweet, but most of the time, it got in the way of a fun time.

The blond Captain of the football team read what it said now. _**You're a big wimp.**_

_What?!_

**_YOU HEARD ME!_**

_Oh yeah? Whatever._

**_You can be a little shit, you know that?_**

Steve had had enough. That was it. He was almost finished with writing the word _'B__ITCH'_ when the teacher cleared his throat from his position at his desk. "Mr. Rogers?" he asked and Steve looked up, folding the paper in half.

"Yes?"

"Do you and Miss Romanoff need something to do?" He had seen Natasha boring her emerald green eyes in an expecting glower into his back.

"Uh, yes, actually, sir. We need to be excused because Natasha and I need to retake some pictures for the yearbook." His answer was halting and faltering, but the teacher didn't seem to notice his shaky and worried attitude since he believed Steve was one of the only good kids in class.

"Yeah," nodded Natasha convincingly.

"If you say so, Steve." The two teenagers eagerly leaped out of their seats and made a beeline straight for the door and the teacher said, "You wouldn't lie."

The two turned around and Steve shrugged. "Well. I might."

The class was silent, then everyone, including the teacher, burst out in loud and rowdy chortles, even some snorts here and there.

"Good one, Rogers," Schmidt wheezed through guffaws.

Was Steve seriously _that_ good? God, he needed to stop being that.

Steve and Natasha exited the class room and she elbowed him in the ribs playfully, sending him a wink as if to say, _Told you so._ Steve only sent her a dirty look and kept on walking to the parking lot.

* * *

Once inside Steve's large, blue KIA with ample room for all of their gang, he started up the engine and peeled out of the parking lot. After a few minutes of driving, Natasha wriggled around in her leather seat comfortably.

"This is a great improvement," she grinned at him winningly, pearly white teeth sparkling. "Steve Rogers actually skips class!" She tapped her High Topped feet together, which were dangling along the dashboard.

"Danger's my middle name," he replied daringly and when he noticed her feet on the dashboard, he shot her another stern look. "Get your feet off the dash. My parents will kill me."

"Seriously?" Her grin faded and she looked fatigued, keeping her feet up on the dash. "We cut class and you're still acting like a good two shoes? Way to go, Twinkle Toes."

"Sorry, but even I don't like dirt on my ride."

"Really? No clue. Anyway, did you think of what we should do, because we are certainly not just driving around town then coming back." The redhead looked at him and he nodded at her final tone.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"Uh, I don't know," he said simply and caught her smiling at him. "What? Do you have an idea for something to do?"

"I have a few ideas." She skipped over the console and snuggled into his side warmly. He stiffened for a moment before gradually wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Okay. Now what?"

"Close your eyes."

"I'm driving, so if your idea is a death wish, I'm afraid I can't do that."

She laughed and leaned in, lips about to meet his and he gasped in anticipation. However, before they could kiss, a noise at the back interrupted them. Natasha spun her head around and Steve brushed red locks out of his mouth and eyes.

"It was nothing," assured Steve after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah. So, where were we?"

"I had a pretty good idea," he grinned and Natasha clasped a hand around the back of his neck and dove in, but only their noses bumped together when two heads popped up from the trunk that was connected to the backseat.

"Huh? What? Why are we moving?" One of the heads had cropped light brown hair and stormy blue eyes that were narrowed groggily, trying to focus in front of him.

"Bucky?" Steve exclaimed at the emergence of his best friend. The other head was that of a female's and this female raised a pale hand to scratch the back of her head, shaking around her long mane of night black waves.

"Darcy?" he said again. "What are you guys doing in here?"

"What are you guys doing in here?" countered Bucky Barnes, rubbing his sleepy aqua eyes and rotating his tense shoulders. Darcy groaned as she stretched her bare arms over her head.

"Oh, God," grumbled Steve. "You guys did not have sex in my car, did you?"

"That would be a great idea!" Darcy exclaimed, winking at her boyfriend. "But no," she answered at the blond's horrified expression. "We always sleep in on Fridays in your car."

"Buck, I only gave you the spare car keys for emergencies," he forcefully tossed out the words and the brown haired man shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yeah, it was an emergency."

"Yuck."

"Shut up, you bunch of horny nincompoops!" snapped Natasha, rolling her blue green eyes around.

"And about those keys . . ." Bucky trailed off for a moment before saying, "I lost them."

"You what?!"

"It was by accident and plus, it was better that I picked the lock to the trunk. Because Darcy almost used her Taser to electrocute the lock."

"Yes, I did," said the black haired girl proudly. "So again, were you guys planning to have sex in here or something?"

"No," Steve shook his head.

"Uh, yeah!" Natasha said at the same time and Steve shot her a surprised look. She stayed quiet.

"How are you guys here?" Bucky questioned and checked his watch. "School's not even over yet."

"I cut class," boasted Steve in triumph, grinning widely.

Bucky was wholly unimpressed and only stretched, yawned and kept an eyebrow raised high, almost disappearing into his hairline. Then it dropped in boredom. "Yeah, right. Was there, like, a fire drill or something?"

The sandy haired teenager stared at the other two teens over his shoulder, bewildered at their total disbelief. "No, really! Guys, I can do bad things . . ."

The whole car exploded in true guffaws just like the class previously did and Steve thought of banging his head against the steering wheel or better yet, stopping the car and killing all of them by blunt force trauma, but that would kill him and even if it didn't, he didn't want to get arrested for murder.

"Okaaay," Darcy said after the laughs diminished. "I so don't believe you, Cap."

"Oh, really? Well then. You can get you-"

"Cap, watch out for that keg in the middle of the road!" hollered the redhead beside him and he hit the brakes with a stomping foot just in time. The car's tires squealed with friction and the vehicle finally skidded to a halt. Everyone then gathered along the right side of the car, their heads poking out of the windows.

"Wow!" breathed out Natasha, beautiful green eyes sparkling with excitement.

"It's a keg," said Steve, eyes wide as well.

"Of beer," sighed Darcy in wonder.

"It must be a sign," Bucky nodded.

"Of beer!" repeated Darcy, unable to say anything else from being in wonderful shock.

After another pause, Steve finally declared, "Oh, that's it, I'm cutting class everyday!"

* * *

"How'd you find it?" Clint Barton stared, dumbfounded and slack jawed, as Bucky and Steve heaved in the large metal keg into the basement of their friend, Tony Stark's house.

"We were driving down the road," Steve said.

"And man, there she was!" Bucky finished, gazing lovingly at the keg like it was his girlfriend and not the dark haired girl standing behind him, shooting daggers with her dark blue eyes.

"Wow, how often do you find a mysterious keg of free beer, right?" Clint nodded, flopping down on the couch.

"Only once in a while," Tony Stark grinned mischievously.

"Barton's right," pointed out Bucky. "He's absolutely right! When God gives you a keg as a gift, you gotta-"

"Kill a virgin!" exclaimed Tony loudly and proudly and his strawberry blonde girlfriend, Pepper Potts, slapped him on the arm. "Ow!"

"No!" Steve agreed and then looked around, thinking, thinking, thinking. "Throw a party, that's what!"

Bucky nodded. "I have taught you well." Everyone was bored since now, there were no tests yet nothing to do, so everyone agreed.

"Go for it, Rogers!" Natasha beamed and he smiled back with a breathless laugh.

"Lame," Tony whispered at everyone else at the two crushes' exchange of affections.

"Do you think you were any better, Tony?" Pepper countered, with an eyebrow raise.

"Anyway, we could throw a party and charge five bucks a head," suggested Tony, despite being a billionaire's son and already having way too much money.

While Bucky joined in on his mathematical equations, Natasha leaned in to whisper in Steve's ear. "So maybe at the party, we can resume what we were doing before?" she suggested herself, smiling coyly.

The golden haired male tilted his head at her. They had an on and off relationship. Well, the relationship where you liked each other, fooled around with each other but still didn't claim you were boyfriend and girfriend. A status lower than that, but higher than friends with benefits. "Yeah, sure," he nodded. "But, uh, not with everyone around, maybe."

"Cash," Bucky declared, hands shoved down in his pockets.

"Which is . . ." Clint trailed off while the three boys looked at each other.

"Decent!" they all agreed in unison just when Maria Stark, Tony's mother entered.

"Hi, everyone!" she greeted and all four men leaped up to cover the keg, which was protected by a curtain, but still.

"Hey, Mom," Tony smiled.

"Whatcha all doing?" she asked, noticing their tension.

"Mom, we're kind of making a volcano for a science project."

"With ice?" She gestured to Darcy's hands, which were carrying a bag of ice in each.

"It's science, Mrs. Stark!" she said simply, as if that explained everything.

"Okay. Don't mess up the house too much."

"Yeah, okay. Bye, Mom."

Once Mrs. Stark left, Steve jumped into a panic. "Okay, we have got to get the keg out of here. So where are we having the party?"

Everyone else looked helpless and shrugged. Clint, meanwhile, leaped off the couch to his feet and flexed his arm muscles to straighten them out. "Beats me," he said, shrugging as well and heading for the door nonchalantly. "If you guys need me, I'll be with Bobbi over at our secret make out place."

Clint didn't realize he was actually listing down a place to party, and Natasha waved a hand, mouthing, "Secret make out place." at the back of the hopeless sandy haired man in front of her.

He continued with a huge, eager grin. "It's this vacant house on Ridgewood. I mean, it's really great! It's totally private! You can get away with about anything over there." His smile then dropped to a serious and concerned expression. "So, if you find a place to put that keg, let me know."

He exited the house with a slammed door and when Tony was about to get up, Natasha gestured for him to sit down and picked up Steve's wrist to look at his watch. After three seconds, she flourished her hand in a signal. As if on cue, the door swung open again and Clint bolted into the room, gray blue eyes wide with revelation.

"I got an idea!" he announced.

* * *

"Oh! I don't think we'll have enough ice," Maria Stark sighed at her husband, Howard.

"Why not, hon?" he asked. They were currently having a little get together along with Nick Fury and Phil Coulson, some long time friends they had.

"Tony took a whole tub of ice, dear." She shrugged. "Sorry!"

"He took a whole tub of ice?" Fury repeated in bewilderment, twirling the straw around his drink with his one good eye narrowed suspiciously.

"Oh, yeah. They're making a volcano!"

"Right, that's why that Romanoff girl wanted all of our plastic cups," Howard nodded, raising his glass.

"Plastic cups?" the eyepatched man continued.

"Sure, plastic volcano cups."

While Fury rolled his dark brown eye at the Starks, Phil Coulson laughed lightly and playfully. "Hey, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they were having a kegger."

Fury turned and glared at him obviously. Coulson's face fell.

"Oh, jeez!" he said."

"Come on, Coulson! Let's go." Fury swung his keys around his fingers as they headed for the car.

"Those kids could be anywhere. Like looking for needles in a needle stack."

* * *

Meanwhile, that night, Bobbi was swooped up in Clint's strong arms, his face buried in her shoulder, nibbling the bare skin of her neck and pecking kisses here and there. But the petite blonde girl in his arms was furious. "Clint, this is our secret make out place!" she argued, her feet dangling in the air due to her little suspension above the ground. "I did not swipe the key from my mom's real estate office so you could throw a party."

They were all currently standing in the large empty crater of the swimming pool of the abandoned house. Everyone was tapping their feet impatiently, girls shifting their weights from hip to hip and Thor and Bruce Banner, who had been invited by Tony, were the most impatient looking.

"No, it's like a bonus, okay?" Clint suggested, voice muffled by his face in her neck. "I'm doing it for you, baby!"

"Oh . . ." Bobbi seemed to be considering the idea. She shrugged. "Well, okay."

Everyone cheered and the guys began to set up and Natasha dragged Steve away from the small throng of people. "Empty pool, empty house, full keg," she listed, rubbing her hands from side to side on his broad shoulders, both smiling. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time."

"Yeah, well. Told you danger's my middle name." He tilted forward to kiss her, but Bucky called out,

"Hey, Rogers! Mind helping?"

"Don't," Natasha said in a warning tone.

"Uh . . ."

"I don't care, Trickster!" Darcy yelled loudly at the top of the pool, where Thor's brother, Loki was standing, looking down into the pool cautiously. "I seriously don't care when you ate, Loki! Get your ass in the pool, now!"

"If I get a cramp, it'll be on your head, you pathetic wench!" The black haired man then climbed down the ladder and leaped into the pool.

"Hurry up and drink your keg," Bobbi urged.

"Hurry up and drink a keg?" repeated Bucky incredulously.

"How are we even supposed to get the beer out?" asked Steve.

"Duh, through the tap, Cap," Tony explained, giggling at his rhyming.

"Excuse me, but what tap?" Loki pointed out and gestured to the top of the keg. There was no tap whatsoever.

"NO!" cried Bucky and Tony at the same time loudly and they both fell and wrapped their arms around the keg, their shoulders heaving up and down in sobs. Loki rolled his eyes at the two of them.

He muttered, "Pathetic."

Tony finally picked himself up and wiped away the actual tears. "Okay, we really need a tap!"

Loki's blue eyes lit up. "Wait, you!" He pointed to Steve. "Whatever-your-name-is. You can steal Fury's tap."

"Eh?" The Captain shot up an eyebrow.

Tony nodded. "Yeah, he's right. Fury's at my house so he must have brought his alcohol equipment or whatever you call it."

"So you go in," said Loki.

Tony finished, "And you take the tap and bring it back here!"

"I seriously don't think-"

At that moment, people began to stream in and Thor waited patiently at the ladder. "Welcome to the party!" he bellowed. "Five dollars per entry, please!"

"Why are other people here, Clint?" demanded Bobbi, glaring at him while the brown haired boy shrugged.

"Okay, I'll get it," Steve said, wanting to get away from Bobbi's rage.

"Hey, you get it and you'll be getting a little reward from me." Natasha winked and Steve nodded vigorously, climbing out of the pool.

* * *

"You know, I might have heard something about a party somewhere," some kid said to the two investigating adults in front of him while standing in the liquor shop. They had been busy searching for any kegs when the kid had suggested this.

"Alright," Coulson said, nodding.

"But maybe for a few-" He was rubbing his fingers together when Fury glowered him down.

"Oh, a real smart ass you are. Let's see how smart you are when I snap off your head!"

Obviously frightened stiff of Fury's threat, the kid cringed. "Okay, okay!" he relented. "They said something about a vacant house on Ridgewood."

"Hey! I know that place!" confirmed Coulson with a snap. "It's the vacant house on Ridgewood."

"Good work, Sherlock!" Fury said sarcastically. "Let's roll!"

* * *

Half an hour later, Steve finally turned up at the house, spinning around the gate, grabbing a hold of the garden hose and swung down the pool, feet planted on the side and extending his free arm with the tap in hand.

"I stole Fury's tap-" he announced proudly until he peered down and saw his friends along with Fury, Coulson and Howard Stark with a few local policemen surrounding them, their arms crossed with stern looks on their faces.

"Back from those thieves," Steve finished unsurely, then nervously chuckled.

* * *

After several earfuls of scolding and the like, Steve and Natasha were now hanging out in the driveway of his house, leaning on his ride. Steve was kicking at the ground with his shoe and Natasha's head was laid across his shoulders. "Damn, my parents are going to kill me," he muttered under his breath.

"You're always saying that," she sighed with a smile.

"Yeah, but this time, he's gonna kill me! I mean, I cut class, I trespassed, I have stolen beer, and then I swung into a pool full of cops on a garden hose carrying Fury's tap!"

"Mm hmm. That was so cool!" she praised. "And you looked sexy."

"I did?"

"You did."

"Really?"

"Really!" she laughed pushing his shoulder playfully. She pressed an assuring peck on his lips and then added, "You looked dangerous."

"Oh, yes, I did."

She laughed and just had to kiss him again when Fury and Coulson walked in on the scene. While Coulson swooned at their cuteness, Fury groaned and cleared his throat. "Go to your house, Romanoff!" he ordered and the red haired girl reluctantly pulled away from the golden haired boy.

"I'll see you later, babe," she whispered in his ear and he pushed down a grin.

Suddenly, there was a honk. All of them turned to see Loki poking his head out of the window of a sleek black Mercedes car. "Lovely Natasha," he called. "Come hitch a ride with me if you're going home!"

"And risk you knowing my address?" She snorted. "No way."

"Fine, walk all the way home."

Natasha considered the long distance she would have to walk in the deep, dark night and groaned in frustration and reluctantly strolled over to the car. "Fine, she breathed out through gritted teeth.

"Ahem," Steve said and also walked over to the driver's set and leaned in to whisper, "If you stalk her, try to hurt or make her do anything she doesn't want to do, you will regret it," he growled.

Once he stood back up, the redhead looked at him, grateful and impressed. "See? Sexy and dangerous."

"Love you," he said back and she winked once more before getting in the car.


End file.
